


Pit Fighting Gets Complicated When Idiots Are Involved

by Shtish



Category: Dreams of the Sunlit Earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25610713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shtish/pseuds/Shtish
Summary: To put it simply: Dhani fights a jerk and consequently has a shit couple of weeks.
Kudos: 4





	1. Ah, Those Golden Days

“So, who’s the unlucky bastard this time?” The earth djennasi’s black eyes glint as leans over the table with a big grin on her face.  
Dhani snorts and pulls the bookie’s list towards her across the wooden surface. “I don’t know Zainab; I was expecting you to tell me.”  
Zainab laughs and taps her finger next to a name at the bottom of the list. “He’s got good odds. In your favor of course.”  
“Aren’t they always?” Dhani grins back, taking her time to read through the long list of today’s fighters. She stops as she gets to the name Zainab’s finger rests on. Frowns. 

The handwriting could be considered elegant with the amount of long looping curls that cut through both the slot above and below it, but the effect is ruined by the actual text written down. She looks back up with her eyebrows raised.

Zainab gives her a shrug. “He wanted to write it down himself.”  
“Okay, but seriously. The Golden Scorpion?”  
“I think it’s got a nice ring to it. Oh come now,” she adds as Dhani scoffs. “You’re one to talk, you still haven’t gotten one of your own! Every proper fighter needs some sort of stage name. I’m honestly surprised the crowd hasn’t given you one yet.”  
“Thank the gods for small miracles. If they gave me something like that,” she taps the name, “I’d never come out in public again.”  
Zainab rolls her eyes. “Suit yourself then,” she says as she pulls the list back towards her. “So you’re not interested in the 10 to 1 bet then?”  
Dhani leans forward and grabs the woman’s wrist with a grin. “Now I didn’t say that...”

* * *

She’s scheduled for later in the day, and so spends her time hanging around in the backrooms chatting with the other rat fighters. She’s fought about a quarter of them one on one now, and won most of those fights with an unhealthy dose of determination. And maybe a little bit of luck. She leans back in her chair and takes a drink from a mug of water, relaxing against the soft cushions.

“Hey, goatgal!”  
“Hi Gilad,” she replies, not bothering getting up as a darkblue Tiefling takes a seat on a couch across from her. “How’s the arm?”  
He laughs and waves her away. “Absolutely marvelous, thank you for your consideration. According to the physicians I only sprained it lightly, so I’m only on rest for another week or so.”  
“And yet you’re here.”  
“And yet I’m here.” He leans backwards with a smile, throwing his long black braid over the back of the couch. “Not for business though.”  
“Oh?”  
“Pure pleasure.” He winks at her. “I’m looking for Basha, have you seen them recently?”  
She shakes her head and taps her fingers on the armrest. The name sounds familiar, but she can’t conjure the face belonging to it.  
“Tall Olm, favors a greatsword?” Gilad offers. “They’re usually here on Saturdays, dancing with some of the heavier hitters among our ranks.”  
“Right... Don’t they have a few dark spots on their shoulder?”  
He snaps his fingers with a grin. “The one and only.” 

They both look up as door is pushed open and Zainab pokes her head in. “Dhani, you’re up in a few.”  
Dhani nods and sticks her thumb up. The djennasi returns the gesture and disappears again. Gilad smiles and waves at her. “Go on now, don’t leave your adoring fans waiting for too long. They might go rabid and try to find you in here, horror of horrors.”  
She sticks out her tongue as an answer.

* * *

The bell has rung, but the figure on the other side of the pit hasn’t turned around yet. Judging by the low voice it’s a he, and, judging by the fact that he’s leading the crowd in a chant prominently featuring the words “gold” and “scorpion”, he’s also very taken by himself. And wearing the weirdest armor she’s ever seen.  
It’s got gems all over it, for one, which is... well. Something. On top of that it seems to be fully made of gold. Or painted with the stuff, it’s honestly hard to tell. So are the two blades that he’s holding above his head, painfully clanging together in an attempt to give the crowd a beat.

Dhani squints at him. She doesn’t really have another choice, the arena-lights are richocheting off the various surfaces so weirdly she feels as if she’s gotten herself mixed into a class where they teach children how to cast dancing lights.  
And no one seems to be paying any attention to her, neither crowd nor opponent. And it’s been over a minute now. She doesn’t give two hoots about the crowd, but to be ignored by the opponent? That’s a first. But fine, never let it be said she didn’t give him the chance to a fair fight.

She walks over and gently taps him on the shoulder. He turns and looks from the left to the right. And back. Puts a hand above his eyes and repeats the motion. The crowd laughs as he exaggeratedly pretends not to notice her.  
“Very funny. Down here.”  
He does another turn before looking down and clutches his hand to his chest with a mocking gasp. She can see a human face through the T-shaped opening, grinning widely. “Oh dear! They’ve given me a goat to fight!”  
“Yes, very original insult. I’m shaking on my hooves.” She points a thumb over her shoulder. “The bell rang a while ago.”

He guffaws and turns his back to her once more, gesturing at the crowd and... Wait. Is he really starting up a new chant?

She’s too stunned to do anything but listen to the words he’s spouting now. Something about shining brighter than the sun of the olden days. Fine then. She turns around and starts walking away, eyeing him over her shoulder. When she’s at 30 feet she spins around and hurls her staff at the back of his head. 

A hollow clang echoes through the arena. The crowd falls silent as Dhani leasurely makes her way to the twitching heap of man and leans down to collect her staff. Something glints in his hand, in a very ordinary grey. It’s... a throwing knife. A tiny one. She looks at it for a moment, then shrugs and grabs her own weapon. Whatever.

She gives the completely silent crowd a wave and heads back through the tunnels to Zainab, ready to pick up her winnings. 

* * *

“And?” asks the djennasi with a smile.  
Dhani grins wide. “Easy.”


	2. The Love of a Crowd

It’s not that Dhani was under the impression she was a fan favorite. Not at all in fact. Even though she’s been fighting in Piper’s Break for a few months now, the best reception she can hope for is mild curiosity at best. A few whoops if it’s late enough and the alcohol has flowed generously.  
But beeing booed? That’s a definite first.

She’s chatting to Zainab as the announcer calls out her name. It’s quiet for a moment, and then a wave of displeasure washes through the halls. Everyone looks up and stares in the direction of the pit. And then at Dhani. She in turn looks at Zainab.

The latter frowns and pulls out a thick book. She leafs through it as the noise from the pit keeps growing louder, then stops on a seemingly random page and meets Dhani’s eyes. “Tell me... Did you fight anyone after the Golden Scorpion?”

Something begins to dawn on her and she doesn’t like it. A scowl creeps across Dhani’s face as she looks at the arena’s entrance. “No. As a matter of fact I did not.”  
“Then you don’t need me to say anything else.”  
“How are my odds?”  
“Regarding your payout? Pretty good. For your popularity?” Zainab grimaces. “Absolute shit.”  
“Well then I suppose I’d better get this over with,” Dhani sighs. She grabs her staff, straightens her shoulders and sets off towards the pit.

* * *

It doesn’t matter when she comes to fight. Early morning. Late afternoon. Midnight. Neither does it seem to matter whether she wins or loses, nor against whom she’s put. The moment she’s announced, the crowd starts yeering. 

Dhani doesn’t get bothered the first time. Nor the second. Not even the third. But after a full week of constant abuse – abuse that, on one memorable occasion, featured an assortment of flying fruits, which honestly was such a waste of good food – she’s getting rather tired. 

After a particularly vicious night she decides to skip the weekend bouts and takes the time to do some groceries of her own. One of those pears did look _really_ good before she’d had to smash it into smithereens...


	3. Markets Can Be Loud in Various Ways

“HEY! BLEETING BITCH!”

Dhani’s hand hovers over that of the Olm behind stall, fingers frozen around the silver she was about to drop into into theirs. The voice doesn’t sound that familiar, but since everyone is looking in her direction it’s pretty clear that the message is meant for her. Even without the “bleeting” part. She sighs and drops the coins into her grocer’s waiting hand with a friendly smile. “Thanks Eb, I’ll see you again next week.”  
“Yes...” They turn their face nervously to the screamer before focusing back on her. “Enjoy the apples, miss Dhani.”  
“I’m sure I will.”

“I’M TALKING TO YOU!”

With a roll of her eyes she hoists the bag of produce over her shoulder and turns around. Standing at the mouth of the market-stall alley – quite dramatically, she’ll give him that – is a man in golden armor. Covered in gems. Two blades strapped to his side. Wonderful. She sighs and shakes her head.  
“Actually, you’re yelling at me across a market, but sure. What do you want?”  
“YOU AND I HAVE A BONE TO PICK!”  
“Do we?”  
“YES! WE DO! AND YOU HAVE BEEN RUNNING AWAY FROM ME!”  
“Have I now.”  
“YOU ARE SCARED, LITTLE BLEETING GOAT GIRL! I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES!”

She rolls them. He stiffens for a moment, then picks up again even louder than before. Some of the marketgoers flinch. “I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE ON YOU! SO BLOODY AND SO PAINFUL YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO EVER MOVE AGAIN!”  
“Mmmhmm. Can it wait until after I get my groceries home?”  
“NO! I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE WHENEVER I WANT! AND YOU WILL NOT SEE IT COMING! YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO EAT, SLEEP, OR EVEN BREATHE EASILY WHILE I’M OUT ON THE STREETS! I WILL STRIKE WHEN IT’S MOST SURPRISING AND I WILL LEAVE YOU WEEPING IN THE DIRT!”

She eyes him up and down before giving a cheerful smile. “Good to know. Thanks for the headsup big guy. Now if you’ll excuse me...” She waves at Eb (who has also gone perfectly quiet) and turns towards Halla’s Leap.  
“HEY!”

Bingo.

She can feel the earth shake as her now apparently official rival takes off after her. A hint of discomfort sneaks through her chest but she quickly pushes it down. It’s not the earth itself. Just a heavy man. The clanging of his boots gets closer steadily, but not very quickly. She’s got ample time to spy a wall with a flat top she can stand on. 

She waits until she can see the glint of gold in the corner of her eyes as he stretches out his arms to grapple her. She counts to three... And reaches back to grab his helmet. A kick against the ground and she flips up and over his shoulders, pulling the golden monstrosity off his head in one smooth motion. A jump onto a market stall (Akri’s, a tabaxi enby who makes beautiful jewelry in their free time), another onto Eb’s just because she can, and then she’s casually strolling along with not a single piece of fruit lost from her bag. Plus an ugly souvenir. 

“GIVE THAT BACK YOU BITCH!”  
“What, this little thing?” She spits on the shiny surface and rubs it with her sleeve until it gleams. Then she tilts it back to him with a grin. “So is this real gold? Looks awful.”  
“YOU-! YOU-! BITCH!”  
“You really don’t have a lot of insults, do you? Nothing new?” 

Now that the helmet if off she’s got the perfect opportunity to count the popping veins on his face. He’s younger than she imagined. Young, blonde, and in possession of little beady eyes that put her in mind of a sonic pig. He smells like one too. Old sweat and anger... Yet with a little hint of something sweeter under it as well? She frowns ever so slightly and opens her mouth to say something else when a dull glint catches her eye.

Sometimes she regrets acting before she thinks. But this is not one of those times. She lowers the helmet away from her face and tilts it back at him, now pierced with a throwing knife. “Seems you missed.”

He’s absolutely fuming now. She can almost feel the air rushing into his mouth as he takes a very, _very_ deep breath – no doubt to start yelling at her again –, but she doesn’t really have the patience for it anymore. She rolls her eyes and tosses the helmet in his direction.

For the first time since she’s started baiting him, he does something she didn’t expect. He jumps out of the way. A lot nimbler than she’d expected him to. A few moments pass where neither of them move, but simply stare at the knife-pierced helmet spinning on the stone. The soft rattling carries far in the silence of the crowd. 

“ohmylordhakos is that the GOLDEN SCORPION?” A teenage elf jostles his way front ranks of the onlookers, breaking the quiet that has surrounded the scene ever since Scorpion started yelling. 

The aforementioned snaps his helmet up and puts it under his arm, hiding the knife in the crook of his elbow. Dhani can’t see his expression anymore, but the tenseness in his shoulders does not escape her. Strange...

But whatever. She doesn’t have the patience for his boasting anymore. She turns away and starts her walk home along the wall, occassionally casting a glance over her shoulder to see whether he’s trying to follow. Judging from the thickness of the crowd around him, the answer seems to be no. He couldn’t even if he wanted to.

A few meters further Dhani pulls out a pear and hops down to the ground. Weird. Definitely weird. Then she bites into the fruit and puts it out of her mind.


	4. Rumor Has It

Dhani’s hand has not even touched Zainab’s list yet before it is gently slapped away. She looks up at the djennasi, who simply clears her throat and points at the board behind her. Dhani follows the finger and reads through the planned list of the day. 

She finds what she’s looking for on row 15.  
_15:00-15:30. Dhani Splinterhoof – The Golden Scorpion_

“Seriously?”  
Zainab shrugs indifferently. “His request.”  
“Since when do I not get a say in this?”  
“Since I know you. You don’t say no to a challenge.” She takes a pen from a holder on the table and looks up at the Satyr in front of her. “How much do you want to bet?”  
“Zai, he’s an idiot. I don’t feel like-“  
“It’s fifteen to one.”  
Dhani falls silent.  
Zainab chuckles. “See? I know you by now.” She dips the pen into the ink and hovers above the page. “I’ll put down your usual bet, shall I?”  
“You know what? Double it.”  
“That’s my girl.” She scribbles down a few numbers and rubs her fingers together over the newly noted down figures. A bit of sand falls onto the wet ink, and the djennasi looks back up at Dhani. “There, noted dow. Just do me a favor: the crowd isn’t too pleased about you, so try to give them a good show, okay? Get back into their good graces again.”  
“Ugh, fine.”  
“Thank you dear.”  
Dhani waves halfheartedly as she walks down to the arena. 

* * *

To his credit – teeny tiny as it may be – mister Golden Scorpion does actually turn to her as she steps onto the sand. He seems to have found himself a new helmet along with that attitude, judging by the lack of the knife hole. And this one has a funky looking spike jutting from the back. Although... Nope. Not just a spike. That looks like the tail of a cave scorpion.  
She fights the urge to roll her eyes.

Like Zainab already said, the crowd is still not happy to see her. They were jeering before she even set foot into the pit, but she gives them a few waves regardless. She throws her staff into the air and does a cartwheel before catching it again with a grin, pointing one end at her rival. A small speck of green grows at his feet, rapidly transforming into a dandelion. It’s yellow head spreads out its leaves, then falls to the ground as the Scorpion slices it off with his blades.  
She can’t see his face anymore with this new headcovering, but somehow Dhani can just sense his anger. She smiles and gives him a wave as well.

**_DING!_ **

The two blades are aimed straight at her stomach as he charges towards her. Dhani spins and lets them ricochet off of her staff as she kicks his side, unbalancing his mass and sending him careening towards a wall. He manages to stay upright, but he’s not as surefooted anymore as a few moments ago. She makes it worse by aiming her two next kicks right into his kidneys.

He groans but doesn’t crumble, instead turning around and slashing at her with his swords again. She steps sideways, back to the middle of the ring, easily dodging under the swings. He follows, slicing again. She jumps over them this time. And again. She goes under. Again. Over. 

His swings become wider and more predictable as the fight goes on. She leads him in circles, stepping into his reach for just long enough to tap his armor with a finger before darting back out, all the while smiling cheerfully. It doesn’t take much longer before he gives her the big opening she’s looking for.  
She steps in, feints towards his stomach, and then slams the palm of her hand into his throat.

A hush falls over the crowd as the Golden Scorpion falls once again. Dhani nods and sets her staff back into its holder, taking a brief bow towards the seating area. She scoops the dandelion head out of the sand (miraculously not trampled) and sticks it into her hair before starting back towards the betting area.

“SHE BEWITCHED ME!”

The crowd’s hush turns an icy silence. Dhani’s expression matches it perfectly. Slowly, she turns back around.  
“Excuse me?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t use your disgusting fae magic on me!” His voice is soft (note to self: aim for his throat more often) yet perfectly audible in the silence. He points a finger at her hair. “You’ve got the proof right there!”

Dhani’s hand goes up to the flower. She doesn’t really know what to say.

The crowd doesn’t have the same problem. It’s a simple chant, but very effective.  
“Cheater! Cheater! CHEATER!”

She listens as it spreads through the audience, with the Golden Scorpion leading them from the ground. He hasn’t even stood up yet.

She knows there’s nothing she can do. She sets her jaw and turns around. Fine then. She storms through the hallway without looking back around. Zainab reaches out a hand towards her, but she ignores it.  
“Dhani, what happ-“  
“I’ll come by tomorrow for my earnings.”  
“Dhani!” Zainab tries to get away from behind her counter, but by the time she’s free of it the Satyr is already gone.


	5. That Explains the Look

She is planned in against the Golden Scorpion a couple more times (his request, not hers), and while Dhani knows that letting it slide would be the wisest thing to do, she cannot stop herself from taking the challenge. Every. Damn. Time. Even though there’s not a single fight that doesn’t lead to the crowd yelling at her. It doesn’t even matter anymore whether she goes up against the Scorpion himself or another fighter, the scheduled bout with Gilad leads to the exact same response. At least he curses them out in a string of colorful language so long that it leaves him out of breath for a good minute.

It doesn’t get to her when it’s against the Scorpion. She assumed it was just his fans that hated her. But that illusion has shattered now, especially since Gilad tried to reassure her afterwards that at least the fighters still liked her. While nice, it doesn’t really do her much good outside of the backrooms. 

So she decides to skip the Sunday matches and locks herself into her apartment. To get her mind off of it, she bought some new paint, brighter than her usual stuff and red to boot. It cost her a good amount of lumes too, but hey, she doesn’t really need to eat anyway. And this will bring her joy for weeks to come. It’s certainly keeping her mind off the whole debacle now. 

She’s halfway up her forearm with a new pattern of spiraling red and white flowers when she hears something slip underneath the door.

It’s a letter. It smells expensive and sweet, like vanilla and honey. Maybe mixed with roses? She turns the envelope over and spots a wax seal on the front. She briefly wonders whether she’s seen this one before, but she’s not sure. A quick dip into a kitchen drawer produces a knife, which she slides through the top. 

The letter smells even stronger, plus the distinct sharp scent of high-quality ink. The script is very ornate. So ornate in fact that she has to read it multiple times before she can decipher it.

> Dhani Splinterhoof.
> 
> In the past month, you have had the privilege of facing one of Zwll’s most magnificent up and coming combatants: The Golden Scorpion.  
>  You have chosen to take this privilege and taint it with your use of trickery and illegal magic, thereby bringing about the downfall of this most wonderful of knights.
> 
> We hereby wish to inform you that we do not take kindly to your dishonest ways. You have severely overestimated our willingness to let this slight stand. We demand that you right your previous wrongs by paying in blood. Whether this takes place in the arena at the sword of the Golden Scorpion or in a backalley by one of our subcontractors is completely up to you. 
> 
> You have one month.
> 
> On behalf of Lord Archmagus Hakim-Arlingfall,
> 
> Jochebed. Senior Scribe.

She reads it at her table, head resting on her hand, chewing the inside of her cheek. She’s gone over it more than five times now, but still can’t quite believe it. An archmagus? Backing someone in an arena belonging to the Ratspeakers? It explains the armor, but not much else. What is Arlingfall getting out of it?

She gets up and paces through her apartment, her paints quite forgotten. Thoughts keep chasing one another round and round as she flops onto the couch and stares at the ceiling with the letter held to her chest. Every now and again she lifts it up to her nose and takes a deep breath. At least it smells nice...

Something clicks. Dhani jerks upright and stares at the letter. Then at the knife on her table. At the half-finished flowers on her arm. 

A grin spreads over her face as she lies back down and reads through the message again. “Oh Scorpy... You’re doing something illegal aren’t you.”


	6. Don’t You Know the Walls Have Ears?

The dreaming makes place for reality once again. A reality in which her back is stiff thanks to her chosen napping spot. Dhani groans as she stretches her arms and the letter slips off her chest, quite forgotten.

Something scrabbles across the floor. Then a clinking noise comes from the kitchen. She stops stretching and slowly, ever so slowly, peeks over the back of her couch.

There’s a couple of rats, just sitting on her table. They seem to have been dragging a pouch filled with coins, if the shape and noise is any indication. She eyes them curiously, a look which they return.  
“Good morning?”

The majority continues to stare. Only one of them moves, a slender one with light spots across its dark back. Its whiskers twitch as it sits up and points towards the pouch with a tiny paw. “You. Take money. Scorpion wins.”

Dhani gets up from the couch and moves over to her table. The rats don’t move. She leans her forearms on its surface and plops her chin on top of them, bringing her face down to the speaking rat’s level. “Why?”  
“He good business.”  
“Really?”  
“Many coin. Good coin.”  
“But it doesn’t matter that he uses poison?”

The rat goes quiet. The rest of their little group turn their heads towards it. A fat grey one squeaks softly, which earns it a snap from the speckled one. Grey turns its head away and moves behind the coin bag.The speaker looks back at Dhani.  
“Proof?”  
“I was working on obtaining some. But, if you help me out, we can trick him into giving it to you himself. Since we,” she indicates both herself and the rats, “don’t like cheaters.”  
“We do like.” The rat bares its yellow teeth. “Tasty.”  
“Ah. You like them that way. Hmm...” Dhani looks around the room until her eye falls on the ice box. A grin spreads across her face as she walks over to it and digs out a fish from underneath her bottles of wine. Pinky probably won’t mind not having one next time. “How about this. You eat. Take the coins back. And!” She hovers the fish above the table. “You speak a rumor for me.”

Their noses twitch expectantly. The small one looks at her briefly, then nods.

Dhani drops the fish down with a splat. The instant it hits the wood, its surface is covered in furry bodies, wet tearing noises spreading through her apartment. Only the speaking one hasn’t attacked it yet.  
“We speak what?”  
She taps a finger against her lips. “How about... He’ll win over my dead body?”

The rat nods again. “We speak. You keep coin. If he no cheat, coin come back. We get fish second time.”  
“You drive a hard bargain." She grins wide. "Deal.”


	7. All Your Actions Have Consequences

The week that follows is exhausting in a whole different way. Dhani avoids Piper’s Break just as the Goodbye Arammu inn. She only stops by the arena once to ask a favor of Gilad: would he keep an eye out for days the Scorpion shows up? He stops by her apartment the next day and gives her a time, discussed with Zainab and thus already booked. 

He stays over for the rest of the afternoon, providing a brief distraction from all the other preparations she has to do. They get drunk – only a little, mind you – but just drunk enough for her to bring out the paints and cover his forehead in colorful spirals. He, in turn, plays around with her hair and creates a few rows of small, close-to-the-skin braids that poof out just before they get to her horns. When she wakes up the next day she decides to keep them in. She does look quite cute, even with the bags under her eyes. 

* * *

The rats stop by as well, reporting their success. One of them, the speaker who now introduces itself as Speck, has gone even further and tailed the Scorpion for a while. Apparently, a certain golden someone made a purchase in the shadiest parts of shady town. In exchange for a slip of paper he received a small bottle with an unknown substance, simply labeled as “Lachen 8”. The shop it comes from apparently has many weird plants in it, and a shopkeep who wears gloves at all times.

“He bought something strong then?”  
“Don’t know. Cost much light. Scribbled many.”  
“You’re absolutely sure?”  
Speck stares at her down its twitching nose. “Many. Scribbles.”  
“Thank you dear.” She grins and puts the agreed upon payment down on the table: the most expensive fish she could find this morning. It will mean she’ll have to skip even more meals the upcoming week in order to still have enough light to keep her promises, but that’s alright. She can deal with it.

Speck digs in, occasionally casting a glance up at Dhani who has grabbed herself a drink and has joined it at the table. They spend a while in companionable silence, before the rat scurries down the table leg and slips off into a new hole in the wall. Dhani stares after it for a while. Then she grabs some paper and scribbles down a note. _Get a long tapestry._

* * *

The last thing on her list is a proper outfit. She eyes the white dress as she applies new paint to her arm, the symbols carefully arranged in such a way that – from afar – they look like petals slipping down from her shoulder. She carefully blows on them to dry, still debating about the dress.

Truth be told, she hasn’t seen Red in a while. And it’s not like she made a promise to him to wear it only after they meet in the ring... And it would certainly be dramatic to wear it now. But then again, is Goldy really worth it? She snorts and shakes her head. No. He’s not. 

She pulls a simple black dress from her closet and puts that on instead. It doesn’t have sleeves and she doesn’t add any herself either, only ties a thin blue belt around her middle. Her staff is partially wrapped in black strips of fabric too, and she sprouts a couple of small blue blooms at the edges of the wrapping. 

Dhani inspects herself in the shoddy backroom mirror and nods. Yes. This will do. This will do very nicely indeed.

* * *

The betting area is empty. Only Zainab sits behind her table, idly leafing through her ever-present tome. She looks up as Dhani walks in and whistles approvingly.  
“You look ready to murder someone.”  
“That’s because I am. Figuratively! Figuratively!” she adds as the djennasi looks at her with wide eyes. She lifts her hands in an appeasing gesture. “I won’t commit murder, I promise.”  
The tension goes out of Zainab and she nods. “Please. But please don’t get yourself killed either. I heard...”  
Dhani grins and waves her worries away. “Don’t believe all you hear. I’ll be fine.” She turns away and heads for the pit, only catching the first bit of Zainab’s worried mumble.  
“You better be...”

* * *

The glare from the electric lights blinds her for the first seconds she stands on the sand. Someone has attached them to the top of the lowered pit and pointed them straight down at the arena, hiding the crowd behind their powerful glare. But though they may be out of sight, she can hear them perfectly.

The jeers are louder than ever before. She turns in place, trying to catch a glimpse of at least one person, but it’s impossible. She gives them a bow either way, and a special flourish towards the place where she knows the nobility sits. Maybe a certain Archmagus is in the crowd today. She did send him that letter after all. 

Only then does she turn her attention to the Golden Scorpion. His armor shines even brighter in this glare, but she can also see every single scratch on it. It’s honestly quite painful to look at. He points a sword at her, before slowly dragging it across his throat. She supposes he means to be menacing. 

Dhani gives a mock curtsy in return and shifts into battle stance, staff loosely held in her left hand. He mimics her with a single sword. The other he leaves in his scabbard. Hmm. Interesting.

_**DING!** _

****

****

He’s across the sand in seconds, sword a blur in front of him. Dhani responds by slamming her staff against the blade, deflecting the blow to the side. He’s prepared for it this time (finally, it only took him a month to realize) and doesn’t stumble, instead swinging his other hand towards her. 

She feels something nick her side but doesn’t pay it any mind. He moves up against her and starts pushing, forcing her to take a step back. She obliges, then takes two more to goad him into following along. He does so, slashing at her again. Another flick of his hand, and she feels something lodge itself in her side. She ignores it. She takes another step, this time to the side, twirling her staff in front to catch any errant slashes of his blade.

Step, slash, block. Step, block, hit. Step, slash, block. Step. Block. Hit. They keep trading hits back and forth, neither budging an inch. The crowd cheers, screams, pounds their fists against the wood of the balustrade with every hit that connects, be it from Dhani or the Scorpion. 

And so it goes for a good while... 

Until she begins to stumble. Her hits become less and less accurate, her steps slower and more wobbly. The Scorpion’s sword only seems to go faster, sliding past her defense more and more often. The cheers of the crowd grow ever louder as trickles of red mix with the blue on her arm, smudging the pattern beyond any recognition.

And he takes his chance. A too wide swing from her weapon and he’s in her space, picks her up and slams her into the wall. Her staff falls into the sand and she pounds her fists against his helmet, kicks at his knees, but he only leans closer. She can smell roses as his breath tickles her ear. “Have fun in hell, you bitch.” And he stabs a knife into her stomach.

Dhani crumples to the floor as he raises his sword high in the air and starts another chant. The crowd goes wild, multiple hands reaching down past the light to beat against the wall in triumph. No one notices her as she turns onto her back and breathes in deeply. A smile creeps across her face. Then she begins to laugh.

It’s soft at first. The chanting and pounding overpowers it completely as she lies there, giggling and breathing in the dusty air. But then a hand above her points down and a confused silence slowly begins to replace the noise.

He doesn’t notice it. Of course he doesn’t. Only when his cheers begin to die down does he turn around and look at her. She’s clutching her stomach by now, her breath coming out in loud snorts.

“Why are you laughing.”  
She doesn’t answer him.  
“WHY. ARE. YOU. LAUGHING.”  
Dhani shakes her head, tears streaming down her face.  
“Stop. Stop it!”  
He grabs the collar of her dress and pulls her up, slamming her into the wall once again. “STOP THAT! YOU’RE DYING! THERE’S NOTHING TO LAUGH ABOUT!”  
Dhani grins, revealing teeth covered in blood. He frowns and looks down at her stomach. At the multiple handles sticking out of it.  
“Wait... Why aren’t you dead yet?”

As an answer, she headbutts him. He falls onto his ass and begins to scramble backwards, both hands frantically scrabbling for the sword he has dropped.

Dhani kicks it out of his reach and walks after him. Slowly. Calmly. As if she doesn’t have a care in the world. She’s still grinning as she leasurely picks up her staff and absentmindedly spins it in her hand. 

He hits the wall. Dhani leans forward and grabs his chin, pulling it up so he can do nothing else but look her in the eyes. She winks at him. “Shall I tell you a secret?”

She waits for him to nod. Then she lets go and takes a step back, turning around the arena with her eyes firmly on the shadows behind the lights. Her answer is as much for the crowd as it is for him. She finishes her round and looks back down at him.  
“I’m not dead because poison doesn’t work on me.”

The crack of her staff against his temple is overpowered by the crowd’s angry screeching.


	8. The Sting of a Scorpion

“Okay, let's set her down...” 

Dhani crumples onto her couch and groans, her hands pressed tight against her stomach. They feel wet. That’s not normal. Right...? Her head is spinning and the corners of the room seem to swim in and out of this weird darkness. This isn’t the ‘Trails. It’s not supposed to do that.

Two soft voices argue in the distance, but she’s not entirely sure what they’re saying. They too seem to be fading in and out of focus.  
“Rainar said we should grab--“  
“Yes but I don’t think she has--“  
“Well then you ask her--“  
“But she’s--“

Dhani’s head falls back onto the edge of the backrest, bringing two upsidedown figures into her field of vision. The blue one is going through a cupboard above her sink, while the dark brown one sets something on her table. She blinks and one of them suddenly materializes next to her, a long black braid dangling down from his shoulder. His voice is soft and... worried?  
“You have to hold pressure Dhani.”

She lifts a hand up and holds it in front of her face. It’s... red? That’s not a normal color. Probably. She isn’t sure, her other arm is blue mixed with red and that seems right. Well. Half right. Does it?

“Dhani?”

She blinks slowly. Turns her head. He seems really far away, but so does the rest of her...

“Shit. Dhani, you have to focus, okay? For me?”

She laughs and presses her hand against his cheek. Now there’s a reddish handprint on it. The color suits him. He gives her a worried smile back, then calls something over his shoulder. “Zainab, we have to hurry. We’re losing-“

She slips into the dreaming. Or at least, she thinks she does. But it’s not the usual feeling that comes and takes her. It feels strange. Empty. As if it’s not really there anymore. She tries to let her mind go but the familiar stream of images doesn’t come. She blinks and gets a flicker of black eyes staring into hers. A snippet of voice echoing through the emptiness.  
“Don’t you dare! Stay with--” 

A searing pain claws through her material body. Then the nothing takes over.


	9. Good Thing Some Idiots Have Friends

“Dhani? Dhani. I know you're awake. Come on... Look at me.”  
“Hmmm....” 

She opens her eyes, slowly. One of her kitchen chairs is standing in the corner of her bedroom. Gilad is sleeping in it. Wait. When did he—

“Over here.”

She turns her head to the source of the voice and meets Zainab’s eyes. There’s a relieved smile on the djennasi’s face. 

“What... happened?”  
“You almost died, you idiot.”  
Dhani begins to frown. It takes a lot more effort than she remembers it should. “That... can’t be right... He was using... poison... I’m immune...”  
“Yes, he used poison, that we know. But he also used many knives. Some of which you¬ pulled out on your way home.”  
“I... did?”  
Zainab sighs and carefully sits down on the bed. Dhani looks down and notices Zainab’s holding her hand. She squeezes gently.  
“Yes. You did. And you almost bled out.” The djennasi turns her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Like I said. Idiot.”  
“Heh... Guilty...”

Gilad stirs. Zainab looks up and draws a sigil in the air, poking him in the shoulder with a mage hand. He jerks as his eyes shoot open. “What? Is she--“ 

Dhani waves weakly. 

“OhthankHakos!” He jumps up and pulls the chair up to her headrest. “You are a fool, and an idiot, and you owe me so many drinks we’re going to be off our heads for months to come you absolute nightmare of a--”  
“There are some in the ice box if you want to start now,” she smiles.  
“Not for you,” Zainab intercedes with a stern look at Dhani. “You need regular food, not alcohol. Who knows what it’ll do to you in this state.”  
Dhani snorts, then grimaces as the movement upsets her wounds. 

Gilad gently squeezes her shoulder. “Give it a week, then you can take me out. The Arammu inn is where you go a lot right?”  
“Yeah...” She looks up at him with a weak grin. “I challenge you to drink a Hell’s Ice in one go.”  
“Certainly, but only if you join me in the drinking of another afterwards. In however many sips your faen heart desires.”

Zainab rolls her eyes and gets up. “You two are a funny bunch. I’m going to get some actual food, so our idiot here can get her strength back. Can I trust you to not open a bottle and pour it down her throat?”  
“But of course madam.” Gilad smiles sweetly Zainab, giving Dhani a conspiratory wink. “You are, after all, the sole controller of our livelihood, and thus hold the threads of our lives in your very capable hands.”  
“Oh shut up. Flattery doesn’t work on a bookie.”  
“What fascinating new knowledge! I could have sworn that was not what you said last week...”  
“Ugh. You’re disgusting.” The smile tugging at the corners of her eyes says different. 

She grabs a bag and casts another look at Dhani. “I’ll be back in an hour. Don’t worry about paying me for anything. We’ll deal with that when you’re up again.”

Dhani smiles and nods. Her eyes are starting to feel heavy again. She feels Gilad sit down on the bed next to her and grab a hold of her hand. He smiles. “Go on. Rest.”

She closes her eyes and slips into a dream full of stars.

* * *

It takes another month before Dhani gets around to delivering a package off to Lord Arlingfall’s estate, containing a by now very crusty dress. She smiles wistfully as she hands it to a very confused Tabaxi. When she explains the situation, they eventually nod and assure her it will be taken to the proper recipient at once. 

She doesn’t wait around to see it go into the house.

Instead, she walks the streets until she gets to her beloved and very missed Goodbye Arammu inn. She moves gingerly between the tables and takes great care to stay out of the way of any paths that Zolat, her workers, and the inn’s visitors might take. She declines any kind of physical contact from worried acquaintances, although she’s happy to engage in conversations. 

In the following weeks her table is occasionally joined by two new folks, who introduce themselves as “an interested party” and “much beloved and very exclusive friend” respectively. The djennasi tends to stay for only a drink or two before making her excuse, whereas the Tiefling hangs around for as long as he is tolerated. 

Both tell stories of entertaining battles, one a bit brusker than the other, and even invite some of the more... prominent patrons to stop by the Piper’s Break Arena sometime. The fighters are good, the snacks delicious, and the bets very lucrative. 

When Dhani is asked about her absence, she smiles into her drink and leans back.  
"Well... It all started when an idiot got his hands on the ugliest set of armor you've ever seen..."


End file.
